


Cover scars with scars

by NebulaChain



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Gen, Introspection, Kakashi is still traumatized after many years, Recalling events of the 3rd Shinobi World War and Obito's loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 05:44:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3558314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NebulaChain/pseuds/NebulaChain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I am dying… but will become your eye… and keep seeing the future.”<br/>We use to say that when a person dies, it's because the Heaven wants them back among the other blessed creatures.<br/>If that was true, then I want to believe this was the right thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cover scars with scars

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one shot (more like a flash fic) I wrote in 2009, in the middle of my ‘Narutard’ era! I translated it from my native language and revised it though.  
> During that period, a dear classmate of mine died in a car crash, and Kakashi and Obito’s backstory was what inspired me to write it. This is the result of an experiment to see if I could manage to correctly depict Kakashi’s character, whom I love with all my pounding heart~  
> Since English in not my first language, please forgive potential grammar errors!

What I saw when I opened my eyes was the stars scattered everywhere in the firmament.  
It seemed as if those little, ethereal, faint lights were going to be eaten by the darkness of that sky, which all of a sudden frightened me for its vastness compared to the smallness of the human being I was.  
I felt dizzy and my was body numb, burning in some areas; the wounds were still fresh.

_“Kakashi, I am sorry for not having made in time. Rin told me everything…”_

You can’t be sorry for something that was meant to happen anyway, sensei.  
Even now, while staring at that cenotaph, the katakana that form your name are impressed in my mind.  
My pent-up emotions, well hidden behind my ever-present mask, ooze out almost instinctively when I come back to this place, a place where the smell of the past times blends together with slow, nostalgic melodies that get lost in my mind.  
The wind carries the thoughts of the deceased along with their loved ones’ prayers, as if it might work as a chain able to connect such two distant worlds.  
I close my eyes for a moment, then raise my head up to the sky: it is speckled here and there with disarmingly somber grey clouds.  
I calm down and let my left eye rest for a bit.  
That eye whose fault is just  _seeing_. Seeing in your place.  
That eye which was the weirdest gift ever received.

_“Being given a useless thing only makes the baggage heavier!”_

If now I reach out, I can picture you being near me, speaking to me, scolding me, disapproving of my choices and then smiling at me.  
Your gesture and your voice are still bright in me.  
And it feels so strange, so so strange, and I still can’t realize you’re no longer here!  
If I open my eye again, shifting my gaze to the gravestone, I’m aware of how losing yourself in imagination can turn out to be extremely dangerous and painful.  
A gust of wind blows, and a thunder announces the forthcoming storm.  
I remember the day your name was carved together with those of the other Fallen: the sun stood out in the middle of the sky, symbolizing the end of the Third Shinobi World War and the beginning of the new era.  
In war, even those who win eventually grieve for the loss of something which ends up being more precious than power, a leading position, or a new domain.

_“I am dying… but will become your eye… and keep seeing the future.”_

With two fingers I stroke the scar caused by the kunai of that Iwagakure ninja who slashed my eye.  
A scratch that is an emblem of my –brave?– act of having taken a hit that was aimed at you. Yes, that was a vain action, but valid enough to show you how important you were for me.  
It vertically goes across my cheekbone to my eyebrow, and the feel I get from touching it paradoxically gives me a bit of a relief, in remembrance of that last day spent with you… my first, real friend.  
_Uchiha Obito._  
It starts raining.  
The rainwater falls upon me, wetting my hair, my forehead, my face, and then my jonin uniform.  
  
**_In order to cover a scar, you need a more evident one that can leave the mark of the unforgettable memory of a certain person whenever you look at it._**

And the more the noise of the rain intensifies, the more I can let my dirty tears flow.


End file.
